Read CIA - The Slave Traders Page 48

quickly as possible. There was no American Embassy to go to; the two men had to get their two injured comrades out of Iran at once.

  Wayne went back to the waiting room and told Marcus that they had to go. Marcus unhooked Lynda from all of tubes and wires, and began rolling her out of the room. A nurse tried to stop him, and Marcus knocked her out and shoved her to the floor.

  They had moved Lynda all the way to the hospital’s front door when the alarms went off and the door locked right in front of them. Marcus took his gun and fired at all four hinges on one side of the door and the door fell off, but now everyone knew where they were.

  Marcus picked Lynda up and followed Wayne to the large car. He laid Lynda in the back seat and they were off. Both men were in the front seat. Wayne was driving. They went to the new hotel and picked Josh up and were on the run. But where could they go? If they headed west they could make it to Iraq, but would they be any better off?

  Marcus made the decision, and Wayne drove like a wild man.

  They had gone nearly twenty miles before the first jeep was after them. Marcus laid his vest over Lynda and hung out the passenger’s window, shooting at the jeep. Apparently he hit something important. The jeep made a sharp right turn and flew off the narrow road.

  Wayne slowed down and tried not to draw so much attention. They made the border and flew through a checkpoint. Bullets struck the large car but didn’t hit anyone.

  In Iraq, they turned south and headed for Kuwait.

  They were in sight of the border when they ran out of gas.

  The three men stood beside the car trying to decide what to do when an old pickup pulled up beside them and stopped. An old man leaned over and yelled in perfect English, “What are you Americans doing here?”

  Marcus spoke, “Sir, we are trying to get to Kuwait. My wife is injured and I need to get her to a hospital.”

  The old man let them put Lynda in the passenger seat of the pickup. The three men carried Neal’s body to the pickup’s bed. The old man didn’t bat an eye when he saw the body.

  At the border, Marcus was ready to shoot it out with the guards, but the old man spoke Arabic and the guards let them through. Marcus had no idea what the old man had said.

  The old man drove them straight through to the hospital, and the three men gave him all the money that they had. The last they saw of their savior was him waving at them as he drove off.

  Lynda was awake and in great pain when Marcus carried her into the emergency room. He found a nurse that spoke English and told her what had happened, and the staff took Lynda into a trauma room, where she stayed for over two hours.

  Finally a doctor came out. “The young woman will be fine. We have stopped the bleeding. She is young and strong, and should come out of this almost as good as new.”

  Wayne called the American Embassy, and soon an American truck pulled up to take Neal’s body. The driver told Wayne that it would be embalmed and sent to Pensacola, Florida.

  Marcus, Wayne and Josh all sat in their chairs and went to sleep. They had been awake for over two full days.

  Lynda was admitted to the hospital, where she stayed for three nights. The three men took turns at the hospital and at a hotel.

  The four survivors flew home on the same airplane that Neal’s casket was on. They stood at attention as his body was loaded, and then again as it was unloaded in Pensacola.

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